Three's a Trouble
by CheapFunFree
Summary: AU lil' PWP, mainly Sookie/Eric - mysterious water monsters rise from the deep just as Sookie is trying to keep herself and her relationships alive, healthy and relatively normal.
1. Chapter 1

1

It was brutal; agonising, exhausting and often-times left her heart bruised and bleeding, but – never once did she want to change a thing.

There were no hard or fast rules, but there were unspoken agreements and a spoken one too: communication, an absolute must. But, for the most part, it was natural and instinctive, entirely emotional. Often it depended on who showed up first.

Sookie tried to maintain an equality within it all, but she knew, truthfully, that Eric had the best of her attention and affection, but only because he was there, not because she loved him more. Bill could be absent for weeks. But when he returned, to her, the reunion was deliciously sweet.

* * *

Sookie wanted a threesome but she knew it would never happen. She was grateful enough that the men had agreed to her proposal. A threesome with them both would probably end with her being pulled about like a rag doll, both desperate to prove themselves. They had nothing to prove to her, although she would admit, only to herself, that they each had abilities that the other lacked.

Bill was so romantically attentive in bed. He was courteous, considerate and thoughtful, where Eric was intuitive, spontaneous and playful. Eric liked to play in bed, he liked to tease and taunt and laugh, he liked to encourage and reward her. Bill preferred to love in bed, to hold and have and cherish, he adored and attended to her each whimper.

Bill could be rough. He could be dominant, but he preferred not to – Bill was an old-fashioned lover boy. Eric was adventurous and excitable and brought different ideas and emotions to each encounter; it was fun for him. Of course, Sookie enjoyed both approaches – however, she was a lucky enough girl that she'd never had a sexual experience that she hadn't liked.

* * *

Fangtasia was closed on Monday and Tuesday nights – so, unless Bill was scheduled to return from something somewhere, Eric was, more often than not, there, either at Merlotte's or her house.

He would waltz in, hair slicked back, a dangerous smile licking at his lips, dressed for sex, make lascivious remarks until she would oh-so-sweetly kiss him before she rode him dumb and blind. Then, he'd curl into her and tell her stories to make her smile, blush and cry. He'd dance with her, make her laugh; he'd make her know how much she was loved, which was the greatest thing.

* * *

They didn't always have sex. Sookie had two men on her hands and there was no doubt in her mind that they each had other partners too. But their relationship was not founded on sex – it was built from love and need, a desire to trust and learn and know, optimism and strength. It wasn't about sex, but she liked it when it was.

Sookie had never told Bill, although she suspected he had known, but she and Eric had been together before.

She had never meant for it to happen, but that's how she and Eric happened. It was natural, easy, thoughtless and gorgeously fun. She had regretted it to the extent that she hated herself for cheating on Bill, but she was a grown woman and she could've stopped at any time – she'd wanted Eric, she'd had Eric and she couldn't really regret that.

Sookie walked into his hotel room, her mouth hot and throat dry with the words: _Godric has passed_. She stepped towards him cautiously and carefully, conscious of the anguish and loss gripping him, and knelt down to his level, one hand grazing his knee.

"I'm so sorry, Eric," she spoke softly and kindly, overwhelmed with a once unfathomable caring for him. She wanted to ease as much pain from him as he would let her hold; she wanted to hold him. "Godric has passed."

Eric dropped his head and his body vibrated with silent cries, the energy of his frustration sparking off him in hot bursts. Blood splattered his hands, clasped before him. He sobbed like the emotion was being choked from him.

Sookie wrapped her arms around him and held him tighter than she thought she could, pressing her face into his hair. It was like trying to calm an erupting volcano.

Eric's cries gradually calmed and slowed. The blood dried on his hands. He wrapped his arms around Sookie and pulled her hard onto his lap, burying his head in her shoulder.

"I have a lot of love for him," he confessed. There was a pause while the words hung, hot and unbearable, in the air, then: "What do you do?"

Sookie caressed his head, surprised at her own gentleness and willingness. "You keep loving him and missing him and hurting and, one day, the hurting won't be so bad."

Eric raised his head and looked into her eyes for the first time. The dark blood crusted around his lashes made his eyes bluer than she could've believed – the Bon Temps summer sky, newly blossomed wild blue flax could not compare. His expression was clear – for once, she did not fear any motive behind his eyes. He was lost in this new world, without his maker, innocent and afraid as a child, unsure in his footsteps where to walk now that his father would never guide him again.

Eric grabbed her arms and pulled her mouth to his for an instant. The kiss was hard, desperate and unkind, a frantic need to reconnect to a world that suddenly felt so foreign and uncertain. Sookie pulled away and saw the sincerity in his eyes – fear and need – and she wanted all of it, she'd never wanted someone so badly near her.

Sookie ran her hand across his cheek and kissed him, softly and sweetly, a kiss that said 'I see you' and 'I hear you' and 'I know you' and meant it. She kissed him with the desire he'd lit in her heart, the compassion she carried so naturally and the attraction she felt as a woman to a man; she kissed him with all she could and hoped he felt it.

Eric's hand travelled around her back, one hand reaching up to tug at her hair, the other moving downwards to grope her ass. His hands were hard and eager, touching and tugging and groping and grabbing; she whined. He pushed her around, down on the couch, so that he knelt above her, studying her and licking his lips.

Sookie let her hands lie on either side of her head, a subtle show of her submission to him. Eric needed this, he needed to feel real and present in this post-Godric universe – and she could offer him some comfort, some temporary love and a little attention.

Sookie turned her head and offered him her neck.

Eric gazed at her throat hungrily, smiled at her predatorily; his fangs clicked down sharply and he licked them for her benefit. She hated to admit that it made her hot.

Eric leaned down and licked her throat, his tongue tracing from her pulsing vein to her temple, to her ear. Sookie gasped as his tongue followed the shell of her ear before dipping inside, making her shiver like a leaf in the breeze.

"Ahhhhh," she breathed.

Eric chuckled and kissed down the length of her throat, the kisses firm and dry. She arched her back as he trailed down her chest, between her breasts, and stopped. His hands pushed the thin cotton of her dress up – exposing her thighs, her underwear and her stomach. He delved down, kissing hotly and wetly across her stomach and dipping his tongue into her navel. Sookie squirmed, her hands ratting themselves in his hair, tearing uncaringly.

She could feel his teeth pulling at her underwear. She looked down and gasped at the sight; Eric holding the elastic band of her underwear between his teeth, grinning like a cat with a bird in its teeth.

" _Ohhhh_ my God," Sookie whimpered deliriously. Her head fall back on the couch as Eric ripped her underwear with his teeth.

When Eric went down on her, all she could think was that he had done this before, maybe a million times over. It was deliciously, deliriously and disgustingly perfect; he concentrated, he followed her unspoken instructions and carried out her silent commands. All she had to was react to what he did to her, which was oh-so-bittersweet.

Sookie could taste sugar in her mouth it was so good, it made her sweat bleed sweet. Her body was turned and tightened like a coil and then it was bathed in wondrous coolness; the waves came and went, she'd burn so hot the air felt acidic and then disappear somewhere glorious and good. It was so, so fucking good.

Eric worked her clit, his tongue gentle and rough and his timing and motion so precise – it wasn't his first time at the rodeo. His fingers teased her, rubbing on her from the inside, making her convulse and cry single tears. He would bite her thighs, nibble sweetly on her lips, keeping things irregular enough so that she couldn't ride the sensations directly to her orgasm.

But, eventually, he relented and used his thumb to rub her clit while his tongue played in her ear and his hands groped her breasts. Sookie could feel everything building hotter and tighter and stronger and then her body coiled too tight for her to breathe before it all released and she was swept away in a bliss that belonged to no-one but herself. Sookie loved the power in an orgasm.

Bill was incredible, dynamic and deeply sweet in bed but no-one could make her cum as well as Eric. Naturally, Sookie surpassed the both of them where her own body and her own needs were concerned – but Eric was so fucking close.

Afterwards, Sookie turned to face Eric on the couch, their noses pressed together. Her body ached with pleasure, her pussy especially sore, used and abused so fantastically. But she wanted him.

Sookie kissed Eric, her mouth open and hungry, their tongues stroking together and hands meeting across their bodies. Eric petted her neck, his other hand on her breast, curiously weighing and releasing. Sookie ran her fingers threw his hair, soothing him, as she groped downwards for his cock, rubbing hot and heavy against her thigh.

His cock was a gracious amount. Thinner and longer than Bill's, she used both hands to tug and tease the thick shaft and thicker, sensitive head. Eric grunted and groaned until he couldn't, when he began to whimper and pressed himself harder into her hand, squeezing her breast and begging for his release.

"Please, Sookie. Please, please, please . . ." He could be so polite when he tried.

"Tell me."

"Please, Sookie. Please, I want to cum. Let me cum. Sookie."

Sookie did. She turned her attention to the wickedly sensitive head of his dick and suddenly he was spurting hot, heavy ropes of cum across her hands and stomach, sighing painfully long against her neck, his entire body melting like butter in a frying pan.

"Fuck, Sookie. I love you."

* * *

Sookie was, by no means, a fool. She knew that Eric didn't love her, she knew that he wanted her desperately and wholeheartedly and that was enough for then. Sookie didn't always need, nor want, love.

Sometimes Sookie just wanted Eric. She wanted something different, something unfamiliar and strange and good. Bill made her feel beautiful and whole and loved, but sometimes she needed to feel dark and dirty and dangerous in a night bright with danger.

She and Bill had had an argument. A pointless, stupid argument that she didn't care about, but she used it as permission to see Eric. She purposely wore shorts and a loose t-shirt, her hair untidily pulled into a knot, so that he knew she didn't care, because she didn't. What went on in his head was meaningless to her, all she needed was his body.

She walked into Fangtasia, casually wearing an expression of abject boredom and disinterest, and stalked into the office, where she found Eric behind his desk. He wore a dark tracksuit and was half-heartedly immersed in inventory. He didn't look up.

"Sookie. What brings you to our neck of the woods?"

She shrugged. It frustrated her that he didn't just climb all over her. She wanted him to want her more than she wanted him. She wanted him begging and pleading for her attention. She didn't want to have to ask, or even lift an eyebrow. She wanted him to make it easy, because if she made an effort, then she had to accept responsibility too.

Sookie hated to hurt Bill, who loved her more than the moon and the stars that kept his night alive. She didn't yet care for Eric, who was tall and beautiful and excited her but there was nothing meaningful between them. He was a great cock and an incredible fuck. Bill was her heart in its entirety.

Eric raised his head and stared at her. He knew exactly what she wanted. "Ask."

Sookie's mouth set in a concrete frown.

"Ask and I will do anything for you."

Ultimately, Eric lacked the resolve that she had and stood up, stalked toward her and raised her into his arms, kissing her until all the breath was drawn from her lungs and a faintness overcame here.

"Mmmmm," she offered in encouragement as he sat her on his desk and spread her legs. He came to stand between her spread thighs, rubbing his angry erection against her, running his hands across her back and into her hair and cupping her high breasts excitedly. She pressed on his head and he knelt before her, taking her thigh into his mouth and threatening to bite.

"Tell me, Sookie."

This was before Sookie appreciated his games, his want for fun and play and full active participation in the bedroom. This was before Sookie appreciated Eric.

"Shut up, Eric," she told him, forcing his mouth between her legs.

Sookie had not let Eric fuck her because she didn't want him to have that part of her yet, but she did go down on him and would admit that it made her feel fucking sexy to have a vampire Viking sheriff whining beneath her mouth and hands like a sweet bitch.

She took him into her mouth, teasing and wetting him with her pink tongue, which curled around each vein and laved the smooth, taut skin. She sucked on the head and sides, relished the firmness, rolled the taste around on her tongue. She sucked him deep into her throat, gagging on the head and coughing on the shaft, feeling sluttish and hot.

Eric ran his hands through her hair, pulling and grabbing and groaning as she pleased him. He liked to fuck her mouth and she liked to let him because she liked to feel like a whore sometimes. In these moments, she wasn't sweet Southern belle Sookie Stackhouse but a woman lost to her base need.

She was a woman who would open her throat and let a man batter it with his cock until he couldn't hold on another second and shot thick and hot into her mouth, on her tongue, across her face and breasts, sometimes her pussy, anywhere she'd let him. She was a woman who would wipe herself clean and then go home to make up with her perfect boyfriend.

* * *

"Sookie."

Sookie wrapped her around his broad shoulders, placed her face in his shoulder and inhaled him - earth, smoke, blood and cinnamon. He smelled warm and strong - a good man who loved his girlfriend and would sacrifice his life for hers, but she missed the scent of Eric, who forever smelled like he'd come running from the ocean.

Sookie shook the thought from her head and kissed Bill with all the love and eagerness of someone with a fuck-up on their hands. "Bill," she murmured against his lips. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to fight. I love you." She kissed him with the hope and desperation of someone who needed forgiveness.

Bill brushed her hair from her face, held her tightly and told her: "I don't want to fight either. I love you, Miss Stackhouse. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course. Will you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

Bill carried her upstairs and she hated herself so deeply that she could only think of clawing her skin into thin strips and watching the black poisonous blood pour from inside her. Instead, she allowed Bill to writhe pathetically under her hands, allowed him to present himself as the awkward, apologetic boyfriend, while she shifted into something dominant, strong and aggressive.

Sookie held Bill down on the bed, her hands pressed into his shoulders, her eyes drilling into his as she decided how she wanted to be.

She tied his hands to the bedframe with leather shackles and blindfolded him, she watched his body become scared and electric, excited. Bill could play too.


	2. Chapter 2

2

" _What_ are you doing?" Sookie asked amusedly, as she was pulled away from the hopelessly sweet-natured boy she'd had adhered to her, and pulled into the familiar arms of her boyfriend, Eric. She stumbled drunkenly on her feet as she stared happily into his face, "Well, hey there."

"Hello, Sookie," Eric replied coolly. His hands settled on her narrow waist and he started to move her to the music; she swayed ever-so-happily with him. He could smell the alcohol in her sweat, thick and sweet, it made her warmer and fluid, she slid in his hands like butter.

"I had four daiquiris, three tequila shots and a Porn Star martini," she confessed breathlessly, so incredibly pleased with herself. "A Porn Star martini!" she giggled. "Do you know why I wanted one?"

"No."

"Because, sometimes, I feel like a porn star when you fuck me," Sookie whispered to him, her words hot and sticky on his neck. Her eyes were seductive and dark, suddenly: she felt predatory in his arms. She was a panther, a lioness, about to tear his flesh from his bones and consume him and _fuck_ how he wanted to be consumed all in her pretty, pretty mouth.

Sookie had worn a coral-coloured satin dress, the material so thin and the measurements so precise, it fit like a second skin. The bounce of her small breasts, the narrowness of her waist, the roundness of her hips and ass, all lusciously emphasised by the dress. Her make-up, too, served only to pull attention to her finest features – her round eyes, her delicate cheekbones, her full mouth.

Eric had an erection to break down doors.

Sookie slipped from his arms. "I want another drink."

Eric watched her saunter towards the bar, her legs long, elegant and tanned. He wanted her legs spreads, her thighs spread, he wanted between and inside her, those legs around his waist, or her ankles on his shoulders or her knees pressed to his chest.

Sookie could feel Eric behind her, his lust weighing on her from all sides, making the air humid and heavy. It made her feel powerful. "One Porn Star martini, please."

"I have to fuck you."

Sookie laughed. "Down, boy." His frustration made her skin prickle. It was electric – the connection between them – the reception increasing as the distance between them closed. At this proximity, what he felt was immediate and raw, so real she could barely differentiate between their emotions. It made her heart heavier in her chest and ramped up her sensitivity, making her crazed and overemotional and, in this case, too fucking horny. Her underwear irritated her.

Sookie wondered what it felt like on Eric's end – was he always an active recipient of her anger, sadness and desire? Could he switch her off?

Sookie took her drink and sipped it delicately. She turned and smiled at Eric, the straw held preciously between her lips. "I had fun tonight."

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not much for country music but, it was such good fun and the boys were so damn cute. Casey sure had fun – she went home with one of them."

"Did you want to go home with someone?"

Sookie smiled mischievously and then shook her head. "I knew what I wanted tonight."

"And what was that?"

"You." Sookie giggled naughtily and placed her finished drink on the bar. " _Well_ , you in a cowboy hat."

"A cowboy hat?"

Sookie nodded nervously. "I've wanted you all day. But, after tonight, I want a cowboy." She stepped up to Eric, placed her hands softly on his chest, she toyed with the low neckline of his t-shirt. "I want to be whipped. I want to be ridden."

Eric grabbed her ass and raised her to his height; their mouths met easily and roughly, colliding and melding and burning. Her tongue ran across his; her tongue was hot and wet and tasted of vanilla; she was ice cream in the sunshine, warm and sweet and sticky.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Sookie stilled at the low Southern drawl as it crawled across her skin.

"A young lady out at this time of night is only looking for trouble."

Sookie turned and her breath caught in her throat. Eric dressed to precision in a cotton shirt, jeans with leather chaps and thick leather boots, a whip tucked into his waistband, and a hat pulled low over his eyes; Eric was suddenly so unfamiliar to her, mysterious, unapproachable, a little threatening without the moonlight on his face and in his eyes.

Sookie didn't need a character. "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean any bother."

Eric took a step forward and she almost stepped backwards, so terribly intimidated by him that she wanted to shake herself steady. This was Eric, her lover, her boyfriend – except, he wasn't.

"Y'alright, ma'am?" he drawled, his voice warmer than whiskey and smoother than honey.

"Certainly, sir. I think I'll just be on my way home now."

"Now, now, I couldn't leave a young lady to escort herself home. There's all kinds of dangers in the night." Eric walked forwards, the moonlight coming to shine on his fangs, which were longer and menacing than they'd ever been before. "If it's quite alright with you, I'll escort you."

* * *

Eric had her pressed into the rough ground, her hands tied above her head with twine, her dress pushed up to expose her ass to the night. Her ass was striped with fierce-looking thin red lines from the whip, her elbows and knees darkened with earth. She whined and cried into the ground and Eric couldn't believe they'd never played this before – her ass had never been hotter, shining bright red and delectable in the moonlight.

Eric leaned down and licked a wide line from her thigh, along the ample curve of her ass to her tailbone, where his tongue lingered for a moment before he started his descent between her ass cheeks. Sookie squealed into the bandana he'd tied around her mouth as his tongue found her asshole, circling the outside teasingly before he pressed down. Her asshole tightened and then opened for him, he pushed his tongue deep inside and flicked the tip across her delicate insides. She squirmed into the ground.

Eric continued to flick his tongue, delving deep inside and then pulling out to lathe her asshole with his saliva, making her wetter and his entrance smoother. She started to thrust her body against the ground, desperate to ease the sensations gripping her; Eric laughed and then slapped her ass with an open palm. She cried out, shocked, and then sighed as he sucked the abused skin into his mouth, nipping at her ass, then returning to rim her tight asshole.

Eric pressed the length of his body against Sookie's, letting her feel the soft cotton and rough denim and cool leather, letting her feel each muscle in his body, letting her feel his breath at her ear, the weight of his cock at her ass. He tangled one hand in her hair while the other groped for his breast, he fondled and caressed the soft weight of her breast in his hand, squeezing the hard nipple and stroking the sensitive skin; she loved her breasts to be touched, and he was ever-so-happy to touch them.

"I've never seen a lady as fine as you . . ." he breathed fervently in her ear. He could feel the tremble through her body from head to toe. "Hot and wet and so fucking _sexy_ . . ." He growled and spit on his fingers, massaging his saliva into her asshole, stretching and preparing her.

"I need to be inside you," he told her impatiently, his breath too short and hot on her neck. "I want to stretch your ass, fill you and fuck you. I want to cum inside you. Shoot so deep inside you. I want you to feel me."

Sookie's body vibrated, hot and cold and nervous and desperate, her pulse drumming in her throat and her breath dragging in her lungs. It was too much and not enough. Eric liked to agitate her right on her edge, tease her between love and hate and fear and lust. Eric liked to demonstrate that he knew her well enough to challenge her, to push hard enough without ruining her, to love strong enough without boring her.

Eric wasn't Bill. Of course, Eric fucking adored Sookie and would give wage war for her – but she knew that. No, their sex wasn't a session of hero worship – their sex was fresh and effervescent, boiling with energy and burning with urgency.

Eric pulled his cock out from his trousers and rested the head against her tense asshole. He held himself there for a moment, listening to the night – the air humming with the magic night-time – and listening to Sookie, whose heart he could hear throbbing in his ears. Eric trailed his fingers from her temple through her hair and ensured she felt the tenderness and the care and the want and the love he so deeply and dearly held for her.

It wasn't hero-worship, but Eric couldn't pretend that he didn't care. When testing the bounds of everything that held them, Eric needed to stop and remind Sookie of something so real and so simple: he cared about her. This wasn't a fuck in the forest, this wasn't a fancy costume fuck in the forest – this was them, this was their love and that's entirely what she needed to know.

Eric pushed against her asshole, his hand guiding his cock, and gradually Sookie opened to him, grunting into her gag the entire time. Eric slid inside slowly and then waited for Sookie to adjust to him. She was hyperventilating, her body throbbing with the intrusion – Eric knew, he understood, he wasn't a virgin. Her aches soon calmed and she was squirming against him, encouraging him.

Eric raised himself onto his knees, pulled Sookie with him, his hands grasping her slim hips. She mewled and writhed prettily, her spine arching as his hand dragged down her back, her sweat collecting under his fingernails. Her skin was flushed and damp, these reactions to stimulation so uniquely human. He grabbed her hips with both hands and thrust himself into her, the tautness of her asshole relaxing, her body curling and unfurling before him.

Eric's hand reached upwards and he wrapped her ponytail in his fist, tugging relentlessly on her hair, wrenching her head upwards, as he fucked her ass. The sounds spilling from her mouth were harsh and guttural and desperate, saliva dripping down her chin. Inside, her muscles clenched and released on his cock as he moved, the delicate walls fluttering around him. Eric pulled Sookie from her hands and knees so his chest pressed hard into her back, keeping one hand tight in her hair, the other reached knowingly for her clit.

Her pussy roared a thousand degrees, the skin slick and scorched; his fingers found their target and massaged the hot bundle in a circular motion. Her muscles were tensing and she was gagging incoherently around the bandana in her mouth.

"You're so fucking hot. So fucking tight. You're a filthy fucking slut, a dirty little whore. Letting me fuck you in the open. Your hands tied, your mouth gagged. You fucking love this. You love me inside you. In your ass. Rubbing your clit. Such a good whore." Eric let his tongue circle her ear de **f** tly before plunging inside. "I'm going to cum inside you. So deep inside you. I can feel it coming. I'm going to cum."

Eric released her hair and her clit, seizing her hips and wrenching her ass over his cock until the brain short-circuited, exploding in hot electric bursts, his balls rising and his cock swelling - his cum squirted heavily inside her. He bit down on his tongue as the last spasms emptied inside her.

Eric pulled himself out gently, listening to Sookie gasping beneath him, he carefully moved her onto her back. Dirt scratched her face, hands, forearms, elbows, knees, shins; she looked debauched, depraved and ever-so-delectable. His Southern belle, his fairy princess, so gorgeously freshly fucked.

Eric laughed. "You're nothing like I thought you were," he drawled, slick and effortless in character. He lowered himself to her pussy, glistening red and raw in the moonlight.

* * *

Eric pulled tenderly on Sookie's wrist, cautious not to drink too much whilst well-aware that he was famished. Out the corner of his eye, he watched curiously as Sookie switched casually between microwave mini pizza and Nutter Butter bites. The food smelled atrocious to him, yet with each mouthful he could see Sookie become livelier and bouncier, he could taste the difference in her blood – sickly, syrupy and sweeter by the mouthful.

"That was fun," Sookie commented as she raised one of the cookies to her mouth, tomato sauce and cheese tucked in the corner of her lips.

Eric cleaned Sookie's wrist with his blood. "Fun?" he scoffed. "I'm surprised you can sit down."

Sookie frowned at him sharply. "I'll have none of that."

Eric chuckled loudly. "You're a mystery to me." He leaned in close to her, flicking his tongue in her ear. "I thought you liked my wicked mouth."

Sookie shoved him. "There's a time and a place is all." Her hardened exterior softened momentarily and she smiled at him fondly, "You staying the night?"

Eric shook his head once. "Vampire business," he explained. "There's been a string of disappearances. A Sheriff has reported her prodigy missing, she can no longer feel her and fears she's dead."

"What do you think it is?"

"Dealers or V-addicts, one of them, if not both. Disappearances aren't uncommon," he answered, his tone flat and bored. "But when a Sheriff makes a request, it is deeply unkind to refuse." Eric reached out to stroke Sookie's hair, which remained tangled and ratted. "You should come to Fangtasia soon. I've had new lighting installed."

"Now, if that isn't damn near the most exciting thing to happen in Louisiana, I don't know what is."

Eric scowled but continued to pet her hair. "I think you should come stay with me."

"And drive to and from Shreveport to work every day? I don't think so."

"I like to have you around."

"And I like to be around you," Sookie replied honestly. "But, seriously? This is my home. No man in any cowboy hat is gonna convince me to leave it – so, no. And that's as good as it's going to get."

Eric's face betrayed no emotion, but he nodded. "Okay." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "So you'll think about it?"

Sookie gasped in astonishment and pushed him off her. "Oh my God, Eric. You're 'bout as stubborn as two planks of wood, now go on – go deal with your _vampire business_ and leave me to fix my hair."

Eric stood and walked her towards the door. "Alrighty then, ma'am." He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead and slapped her ass hard before flitting into the night.

* * *

Author's Note: A gentle warning that I'm going to be building a plot into this, I'm also going to make a conscious effort not to overuse the words 'hot' or 'sweet' anymore xx


	3. Chapter 3

3

"Sookie . . . Sookie . . . _Sookie_."

Awake, Sookie gasped. She could feel his breath in her ear, but when she turned to confront him – she was alone. Ice cold dread dripped into her blood. " _Eric_?"

The house remained silent, eerily so.

Sookie stood, pulled the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Sookie . . . Sookie . . ." there was the voice – _his_ voice – innocent and inviting and kind.

Sookie trembled on her feet. " _Shoot_." It wasn't Eric. It sounded like him, but it wasn't. She could feel their connection stretched across the state, he was miles from her.

"Sookie . . ."

Sookie held the blanket around her like a shield and followed the direction of the voice out of her home and into the darkness. The night was threatening, she couldn't believe she'd been on the ground with Eric hours before; the night felt unsafe and unsure and shook her to her bones.

"Sookie, come here, my love . . ."

Not Eric. Not Eric's words. But the voice, the tone . . . it was them, alone, in her bed, enveloped in one another, their mouths centimetres apart as he confessed his secrets and she offered her own. It was his voice when they were at their most intimate, most honest and sincere. It was Eric with his exterior stripped away to expose the most vulnerable places in his heart, his soul; it was Eric when he said 'I love you', when the weight of the words were at their heaviest.

Sookie could feel herself drift. The hard earth beneath her feet became satin and the air around her was perfumed with vanilla. The colours around her seemed to bounce and brighten. She smiled, enchanted.

"Sookie . . ."

"Eric . . ." she replied breathlessly.

Sookie stopped when she came across a pond, the widest and deepest pond she'd ever seen. It shone lighter than the moon, the ripples in the water seemed to crinkle and crackle with electricity; it was magnificent.

"Oh, wow," Sookie exhaled, overwhelmed at the sight.

"Sookie." Eric, knee-deep in the water, extended his hand towards her. "Join me."

Sookie laughed. "Why're you in the water in all your clothes? You're gonna get all wet."

Eric smiled widely at her. "Sookie, come get wet with me." He winked.

Sookie took a step towards him and was suddenly aware of his head, his mind, his brain – it buzzed and whirred and whined, like someone had turned on a radio after decades of silence, it hurt her to listen to him.

"Eric, why's your head all crazy?" Sookie raised her hands to her ears. She wanted to kill the noise. It blistered and boiled her brain, she could feel her blood start to heat, to race around her body. Words started to punctuate, to penetrate, but they were nonsense to her.

Sookie fell backwards as the realisation slapped her. It wasn't Eric. Definitely not Eric. Her realisation demolished the fantasy around her. It wasn't Eric. This was something else entirely with its own unique skillset of powers and abilities, enough to diminish her own understandings.

Sookie scrambled to her feet but kept a distance from the creature. She pointed at it accusingly, " _What are you_?"

The creature tilted its head and snarled at her, " _What are you_?"

The water became disturbed, bubbled and broke around its feet. She could hear childlike whispers float in the air:

" _She smells divine_."

" _She smells like candy_."

" _I want her bones_."

The creature extended its arms towards her and opened its mouth wide, exposing its jagged teeth, and began to sing the gentlest and most wondrous song that had ever graced her ears. The splashes in the water became harsher, louder, and distracted her enough that she could break into a run.

The song followed her through the trees, the beautiful, haunting sound chasing her.

Sookie ran and ran and ran until she could taste blood and then she ran further, farther and farther until the song was nothing, and she collapsed on the ground.

* * *

That day, Sookie couldn't shake the fear that clung to her like a shadow. She had woken up on the ground as the sun started to break the day, walked home on bloodied feet and passed out cold and petrified on the couch.

Somewhere in her head, she'd registered that her feet ached. Scratched and torn and bruised, each step was conscious and measured and hurt nonetheless, but the pain dwindled into nonexistence when compared to her anxiety. Each sound, each breath, when a door closed, when the song changed on the radio, she caved into panic and was trapped, inconsolable, for anything between ten seconds and fifteen minutes.

Nothing had ever upset her so much in her life. But being so far from her own control, her mind held captive under someone else's power – that devastated her. She'd never felt so disturbed, so deeply violated - not for a long time.

"Sookie."

Sookie jumped in her skin, her bones rattling and clattering inside her, turned to face Sam. She had to persuade her entire body to respond to him – she nodded. "Yeah?"

"Can I speak to you in my office?"

"Uh-huh. Sure."

She followed him slowly into his office and calmed herself in preparation for his shutting the door. She tensed when the door clicked shut anyway.

"I need you to tell me what the hell's going on," Sam demanded.

Sookie tried to strengthen her posture, raise her head, but all she could manage was crossing her arms over her chest. She wanted to crawl into the foetal position, to disappear into herself.

"I don't know, Sam," she admitted. She hated that her voice shook, that she was afraid of the sound. "I've never . . . I've never been so scared. I've never felt anything like it."

Sookie wanted to slam her head against the wall. She had fought and killed and fought and killed again. Humans, vampires, werewolves, only few species remained unharmed by her. She'd had blood on her hands and washed them clean. She was fearless and fierce and untouchable – so why _this_? She could feel the trauma scuttling underneath her skin. It was only a trick, a mind fuck. Inconvenient, scary, but not incapacitating, no. She'd conquered so much worse, banished monsters into extinction, spat in evil's eye – so, _what the fuck_?

"It climbed inside my head," she hurried to explain. "It was inside me and it convinced me that Eric was in the pond, that he wanted me in the pond with him – but it wasn't Eric. It was something else. Some creature. And it had other things in the water with it that wanted to eat my bones. _Fuck_."

Panic crept in, set in and dragged her to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees and let the tears splash down her face; she despised herself, her weakness was repulsive. She was so much stronger than this, so much better.

Sam knelt on the floor beside her, enfolding her into his chest, holding her while convulsions jerked and juddered through her. He stroked her head and hushed her softly. Sookie forced herself to surrender, to allow herself to be comforted. It physically hurt, it made her nauseous and bitter. She could screech bloody.

"I don't know what it was, Sam, but it knew me and it kept calling for me and I wanted to follow it. I had to keep thinking: run, run, run, run, but every part of me wanted to give in and go back, even though I knew I would die." Sookie raised her head to stare Sam in the eye: "What the fuck could it be?"

"I honestly haven't an idea," Sam answered. "It's like nothing I've ever heard of." He continued to stroke her head. "You told Eric or Bill?"

Sookie shook her head. "It only happened this morning," she said. "But I don't know if I should tell them. They'd just get annoying and possessive."

"If I were your boyfriend, that's how I'd react," Sam told her sweetly. "How'd you expect a man to respond when his girlfriend says she was almost killed?"

Sookie shrugged. "It probably won't even happen again." The lie chilled her.

"You don't know that."

"You don't know it'll happen again."

"I do know in our town – things tend to get a lot worse before they get better."

"Ain't that the sad truth," Sookie whispered, quickly losing faith in her lie. "And things have been so good these last weeks. Too good."

"And they'll be good again. Heck, they're good now. Whatever it was, I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle, cher." Sam pressed a firm kiss to her forehead and she made an executive decision to believe him, at least for then.

* * *

"Sookie," Bill smiled the moment his eyes landed on her. He opened his arms and drew her into a wonderfully familiar, safe embrace. Sookie exhaled deeply and relaxed into him. She could really miss him – his softness, his compassion and love.

When Bill pulled back, he took notice of her expression. "Whatever's the matter, Sookie?"

Sookie felt better. Hell, she felt incredible compared to her state earlier on. But the darkness continued to harass her, like someone breathing over her shoulder.

"I could do with some help," she admitted.

"Anything."

"Something happened last night that I don't know what it was, but it was just awful," she told him, her eyes wide with sincerity. "I thought I heard Eric calling for me, so I went to see and I found what I thought was Eric in the pond. It looked and sounded just like him. But it had this power over me – like I was under its spell? I felt drawn to it, just overwhelmed. It was only when I heard it's thoughts that I realised it wasn't Eric, it was something else. And there were things in the water underneath it. So I ran, but it kept, like, singing? It was the most beautiful song and I wanted to go to it but I knew I had to run or else I'd-"

"You would have been eaten," Bill finished for her firmly. "I'm afraid that what you encountered last night was some kind of siren."

Sookie blinked at him. She felt stupid. "A _siren_?"

"Yes," Bill assured her. "They inhabit the water. Traditionally, islands where pirates were known to frequent but nowadays they will inhabit whatever body of water they believe will prove fruitful for them. I'd read that they have a preference for more unique individuals – lovers, mothers, people with immense love in their hearts, but this has expanded to include vampires, werewolves, shifters, even fairies, 'special humans'. Sirens call their prey into the water, where they will devour them and feed their bones to the mermaids, who are beautiful, vicious but incredibly stupid and uninventive. Sirens are intelligent, devious and manipulative. They will appear in whatever form is needed – a child, a lover, whatever will pull their victim into the water, in your case, it was Eric."

"Bill, I-"

"Sookie," he touched her cheek and smiled at her. "I understand. I'm just so relieved that you escaped." Bill leaned in and she kissed him. "Sirens are very powerful. It would take someone of equal power to escape them."

"How can we get rid of it?"

"That I don't know," Bill admitted. "Sirens have been around for millennia. They are an old world power, dare I say immune to the powers of the new world. I've never heard of a siren being killed. They do move on eventually, they're very fickle creatures. They're not interested in living in one place, even should the food source prove bountiful, because they can find food in any corner of the world, and they do not eat often."

"So they're going to kill someone from Bon Temps?"

"They will try to," Bill concurred. "But if they aren't fed within a few days, they're prone to becoming bored and simply leaving. They won't wait around to be fed."

"Oh," Sookie breathed, relieved. It was a temporary terror. Suddenly her anxiety seemed far too small and pathetic to be a concern and she was embarrassed. She reached for Bill's hand. "I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Hardly. You could never be a bother," Bill soothed her. "But I must leave you. I have vampire business to attend to."

Sookie nodded. "Thank you."

"May I call on you soon?" Bill enquired respectfully.

Sookie smiled. "Of course."

"Until next time, Sookie," he spoke softly, raising her hand to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. He guided her towards the front door, where he drew her into a brief but breath-taking kiss. Sookie sighed against his mouth.

"Love you."

"And you."

* * *

Sookie was stretched across her couch, a plastic bowl of heavily salted and buttered popcorn tucked between her thighs, her eyes lazily following the television screen. It was a vampire romance film, washed-out, soft-focus with a predictable end, precisely what she needed for her worn-out bones – something simple, uncomplicated and good to bring some brightness to her.

" _This is the first time I've felt alive in a hundred years, Godiva._ "

" _Oh, Ulric! I was nothing until you found me._ "

" _And now you are everything._ "

"Boo."

" _Fuck_!" Sookie exclaimed; she leapt from the couch, mentally set for a battle to the death, yet she quivered where she stood. When the realisation of who it was set in, her panic was squashed under the weight of her absolute anger. "What the hell, Eric?!"

Eric smiled at her devilishly. "Did I scare you?"

" _Yes_ ," Sookie snarled between clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

Eric raised an eyebrow and meaningfully let his stare follow the shape of her.

"Fuck you."

Eric's smile quirked. "Bad day at work, honey?"

"No," Sookie answered sharply. She fell back on her couch, pulling the blanket high around her neck and settling back into place.

Eric tilted his head. "Care to share your troubles?"

Sookie held her frustration protectively to her chest and refused to let him in. "No, thank you."

Eric could read her easier than a picture book. He slid into the room from the window and threw himself down on top of her dramatically, knocking the popcorn across the couch and floor.

" _Eric_!"

"I love this film."

Sookie resisted the desire to maul him. "Eric, please."

"Shush. This is one of my favourite parts."

" _So, you'll always know where I am?_ "

" _Always. You can never hide from me, Godiva. You'll never leave me and I'll never leave you._ "

"Eric, I'm really not in the mood."

"Can I get you in the mood?"

"No."

"Shame. I had big plans for tonight."

"Did they involve being a raging asshole? Because then you're right on track."

Eric seemed impervious to her and watched the film attentively. He only moved to settle more comfortably on the couch. He lay between her knees, his head rested on her stomach, one hand on her ankle. Otherwise, he was silent and still and refused to bite at any of the comments she threw at him.

Sookie brushed the popcorn from her chest and hair, abandoned the empty bowl on the floor, and concentrated on the film. She could feel herself soften as the minutes ticked by and started to play with Eric's fine blond hair. She knew that it wasn't him that upset her, it was the fear of what lay outside her house, of what could call to her at any time and attract her to her death. She loved Eric, truthfully – she was happier to have him around. She needed the company and the comfort.

" _Ulric, how can you expect me to survive without you?_ "

" _I don't. I will protect you, always._ "

" _I'm so scared. I don't know what to do._ "

" _Wait for me, Godiva. I will come back to you._ "

"Eric?"

"Mm?"

"Something happened late last night, after you left," Sookie told him softly. She didn't raise her voice above the volume of the television. "I went to see Bill and he told me that it was a siren."

Eric turned to face her. She could feel more than see the concern. "You met a siren?"

Sookie nodded. "It looked and sounded like you."

"How did you get away?"

"I heard it's thoughts so I knew it wasn't you, and I just ran and I kept running until I couldn't hear it no more."

Eric took her face into his hands and kissed her deeply. She was surprised by the neediness and pressure of the kiss, but fell into it nonetheless.

"I can't believe you escaped a siren," he whispered against her mouth.

"I was so, so scared."

"I didn't feel anything."

"It's okay," Sookie promised him. "I handled it. I wouldn't have wanted you there. It was so much to control my own body, I couldn't fight for you too."

"I don't understand why I couldn't feel your fear."

"It doesn't matter."

Eric drew back from here. "What if something else happens?"

"I'm a grown woman and a fairy, I can fight."

Eric stared into her eyes and nodded slowly. "You can. Like no-one I've ever known."

* * *

Sookie's laugh was loud and real, ringing out bright into the night and filling her bedroom with warmth. She could feel Eric's smile against her skin as he tickled her, his fingers running across her chest, into her armpits and neck. Sookie was filled with gratitude for both Bill, who had assured her that her fear was rational and deserved, and Eric, who had confirmed this and now sought to rid her of all that terrible, terrible terror; she could not have chosen two better men to share her heart.

Eric straddled her thin waist, held her wrists above her head with one hand, and smiled down at her wickedly. Mischief shone dangerously in his eyes.

"I want you to fight me."

* * *

Author's Note: I apologise for spelling/grammar, but, at least, there's a plot now. Maybe I'll try and sneak some cheeky character development in there. Also, apologies for anyone who wanted some porn in this chapter. I'll try and double up for the next one ;)


	4. Chapter 4

4

Jason and Tara had both made time to teach her to fight. Their advice had been simple, effective: knees, throat and eyes. Jason had practiced with her in the yard until she struck him in the throat so hard he vomited and cried simultaneously. After that, Sookie assumed she had reached whatever standard was required of her.

Sookie was, by no means, a threat – but she could handle herself and anyone else who wanted to try. Of course, this didn't take into account vampires and their super speed and super strength and super this and that. However, it also didn't take into account her own newfound super abilities.

Putting aside the draining, the incident of kidnapping and chaining up, Sookie knew that Eric would disembowel himself before he hurt her – so she was feeling good.

Sookie bounced on her feet, her arms and fists loose and languid. Eric circled her from nine feet away, his movement slow and predacious, controlled. A lethal smile played on his mouth, anticipation glittered in his eyes; Eric loved this, she could tell. And she'd admit that she liked it too.

The air between them was cooking smooth and warm with a delicious sexual tension.

Eric raised his hand and motioned for her to come closer. "Come here, little girl."

Sookie could've laughed. She moved towards him and, once within hitting distance, she predicted his move and turned at the moment he flitted behind her and delivered a sharp punch to the base of his throat. She hadn't expected his skin to be so hard, so much like marble, and she recoiled at the pain but maintained her posture, her direction and intention. She turned to her side to deliver a kick to his sternum.

Eric seemed surprised and didn't react in time for her to jump, wrap herself around him and drop a punch to his heart.

"I could've staked you," she whispered against his lips. She kissed him before he pushed her from his chest and she fell on her feet, which were sore but no distraction. She bounced on her toes.

"I only wanted to see the fight in you," Eric told her. "That was your only chance."

"I only need one," Sookie reminded him. She smiled at him deviously, "Come on then. Let's see the fight in you."

Eric came at her so she raised her hands and threw him backwards with a short burst of light. She watched him hit the ground, stunned. He growled at her and she chuckled.

"That the best you can give me?"

Eric grinned. He came at her a second time, moving behind her at the last moment, so her light exploded unused into the night, and he snatched her around her waist and raised her neck to his mouth. Before he could speak, Sookie dug her elbow into his chest and kicked her foot into his knee, finally raising her hands behind her and blasting him with her light. He dropped her and fell backwards.

Sookie turned. "Don't tell me you're holding back?"

"I don't like to give it all up the first time."

"Come on, baby," Sookie taunted. She had no fear of the ground she was trampling on, she knew she had power, she knew she was equal and could walk freely where she pleased – there was no dangerous ground. "Give it all to me."

Eric flitted around her, too quickly for her eyes to catch him, and she felt herself being tackled to the ground the moment after he had her prostrate. He went to seize her throat but she threw her light at his face, striking him dumb, and threw him beneath her, slamming her hand on his nose and cracking her elbow across his jaw. She was shocked when she watched his blood splatter across the ground, distracted for one minute too long as Eric tossed her effortlessly from him.

She landed on her back, the air knocked from her lungs, clambered readily to her feet, raising her fists once more. Dark purple bruises were blossoming on her knuckles but the adrenalin washed away any pain that could've distracted her.

Eric came towards her and pulled her up in his arms, clenching her to his chest. Her breaths were restricted and filled the centimetre of space between them. Whatever she'd hurt had healed, but blood had crusted around the corner of his mouth and nostrils. She felt bad, but only momentarily.

"You surprise me, Sookie."

"Don't doubt me," she told him firmly. "I'm more than you think I am."

Eric nodded; his eyes betrayed his wonder, his astonishment, and she was overwhelmed by how offended she felt. She wanted him to recognise and respect her – she wasn't just a waitress.

"You don't need me to protect you."

"No," Sookie concurred softly, she caressed his face affectionately. "Does that bother you?"

"No," Eric answered sincerely. "I love that. But I want to help."

"I want you to," she assured him. "I could do this alone, I could live without you and Bill, but I don't want to. I want to protect you and I want you to protect me, I want to be yours and you to be mine."

"I am."

"I know," she said, quietly. "But don't doubt me anymore. If you love me, you should know who I am."

"I am learning," he promised.

Sookie held his face in her hands and brought their mouths together, kissing him. Their mouths, their tongues moved together, and she relished the feel of him, combing her fingers through his hair and gripping his head. There was blood in his mouth and she licked it up, savouring the flavour, enjoying the sticky residue left on her tongue before Eric reclaimed it with his own.

Eric's hands traversed the contours of her body. Sometimes, Eric was like a sixteen-year-old boy with her body – his hands squeezing and seizing her breasts and ass with more enthusiasm than was maybe acceptable for a thousand-year-old, not that she minded terribly. She liked to feel the excitement and enthusiasm fizzing beneath his fingers, touching her like a virgin each time. She liked that he had done this before and acted like he'd never. She liked that he wasn't bored, that – despite the thousand years and million women who had come before her – he was, not only interested, but enlivened with want and need and desperation to touch and feel and have and know.

"I want you," he mumbled.

"Yes," she breathed.

Sookie gasped at the sensation of Eric flitting them into the house, into the lounge, lowering them together onto the couch.

Sookie pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips, her hands pushing his shirt up around his shoulders, tweaking his nipples between her fingers and running her palms across his abdominal muscles, which made her mouth water and her breath shorter.

"You're beautiful," she told him, lowering her mouth to his nipples, tugging them between her teeth. Eric gasped and gritted his teeth, rubbing her head with his hands as he tried to direct her mouth – but she was having none of that. This would be her show.

Sookie sat up, ensured that Eric's eyes were hot on her, slid her hands beneath her shirt and slowly moved her hands upwards, exposing her body to him in heartbeats. She pulled the shirt over her head, shaking her hair out and curving herself backwards, tipping her head back. Using her hand, she painted a trail from her chin, down her neck, between her breasts and down her stomach, her fingers splayed out across her skin, encouraging him to watch her. She heard his fangs click as she slipped her hand inside her shorts, under her underwear, one finger sliding between her lips.

Sookie had never been overtly sexual, because she knew – from people's minds – that all she really needed to do was stand still to be entirely, explicitly sexualised. She dreaded to imagine what people would have thought dare she make the cleanest dirty joke.

Being a virgin for as long as she had, she was the grand fucking master of her own pleasure. She doubted anyone could touch her the way she could. But no-one suspected that of her. A girl as outwardly asexual as her, how could she know anything about pleasure? Bill had been speechless when she'd slapped his hands and showed him precisely what she needed, then continued to instruct him in uninhibited detail until they were headed in the same direction. Sookie had realised early on that she had no patience to be coy where her pleasure was concerned.

Fortunately for her, Bill listened and repeated exactly as he was told. And Eric, he had a strong foundation of experience, which she had built on with her own delicate, detailed preferences.

She still loved to do it herself, because she didn't need any instruction, support or praise – as far as she was concerned, Sookie Stackhouse was impeccable in bed.

She wet the tip of her finger against her folds, letting it slide upwards and downwards until enough moisture had gathered, when she used the pad of her finger to rub her clitoris in slow circles. Everything shivered, quivered; the colours, the objects, the space started to dissolve around her. Absolute fucking perfection.

She rolled herself on her one finger, feeling the screws holding her together loosening all at once.

"Sookie."

Sookie felt herself yanked back into the room, her eyes blinked open lazily. Eric stared at her ravenously, his eyes devoured her, his hands clawed at her.

"Touch yourself," she instructed. She raised herself and slid backwards so Eric could have access to himself, her hand never left her underwear. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she rode a particularly strong wave. When she opened her eyes, Eric's hand was beneath his jeans, gently moving upwards and downwards.

"Let me see," she asked.

"Let _me_ see."

Sookie smiled widely. She stood, held his stare, as she pushed her shorts from her hips to around her ankles. She wore plain white cotton panties, comfortable, practical and fairly unsexy, but it never made a difference to Eric – she was about to be naked, how could her clothes begin to matter?

She stripped her panties off and stood there exactly as God had made her. She rested her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "Your turn."

Momentarily distracted by her nakedness, Eric flitted to stand inches from her. She stared up into his face and he stared down into hers, their eyes dark reflections of each-other. Eric wrenched open the buttons of his jeans, she couldn't help but cast her eyes downwards – she liked what was underneath his jeans. He didn't try to make a performance of it, shoving his jeans around his ankles and then whipping his shirt over his head.

Eric grabbed her into his arms, she locked her ankles around his lower back. He ducked his head to nibble the sensitive skin of her jawline, making her giggle. She could feel his smile.

"I like that sound."

"What?" she giggled.

" _That_ sound," Eric said. "It means you're happy."

"It means you tickled me."

"I like to see that smile," he leaned in to trace the curve of her mouth with his tongue, stopping between her parted lips to slip his tongue inside, kissing her. He pulled back, she whined. "Everything's good, isn't it? You're happy?"

Sookie avoided his eyes, pressing her mouth to his temple. "I think so."

Eric pulled her from him, forced her to meet his stare.

"I'm the happiest I've been in a long while," she admitted. "I'm happy right now."

"With me?"

"When you're not insufferable or manipulative or being a conniving asshole, yeah." There was hurt in his eyes but she wouldn't make apologies for being honest. She nudged his nose with hers. "I love you. All of you. Everything that makes you, makes the man I love. I know I'm not perfect, but I'd like for you to love me nonetheless so that I can do the same for you."

Eric kissed her warmly, wetly and desperately. He emptied his heart into the kiss and she pushed it right back, giving her own, giving and taking, having and holding.

"I love you. Every frustrating faction of who you are, I love it."

"Well, duh." She kissed him. "But who're you calling frustrating?"

Eric laughed against her mouth. "You. The bane of my existence."

"The bane?" she grinned.

"Uh-huh." Their kisses were wet and their mouths slipped across each-other, their tongues winding together. She held his shoulders while his hands stroked down her back, lighting her nerve endings and making her grind against him.

"I want you inside me."

"Is that so?" he teased, nipping her lower lip.

"If you don't want to do it, I can find someone else."

"No," Eric said once, harshly, positioning his cock against her before pushing inside. Her head rolled back and she let out a long moan as he filled her, each inch touching all the places inside her that she loved to be touched. He groaned into her neck, each inch touching all the places inside her that he loved to touch. For a moment, they remained like that – Sookie speared on his cock, her hands dragging against his shoulders, his hands scratching at her ass.

Sookie tossed her head and extended her neck towards his mouth. "Bite me."

Eric rested his forward against her neck for a minute. "It's so good." He straightened his neck, clicked his fangs downwards and bit into her neck, grunting as her blood gushed into his mouth. He could taste the desire in her blood, the love, the arousal and popcorn. He couldn't hear her moaning above the rushing in his ears.

Eric started thrusting against her hips, driving his dick inside her, while he fed on her blood. His head flashed and fizzled with overstimulation – the rare blood in his mouth, the exceptional pussy on his dick, it held him right on the precipice of far too much fucking gloriousness for one sitting.

Sookie writhed in his arms. She was beginning to feel faint, her mind was blinking on and off like a broken television. She couldn't concentrate on either sensation – the wicked dick inside her, the wicked mouth on her neck. Far too fucking much. Far too fucking good.

She tore at his back with her fingernails, tearing his skin up. Eric pulled off her neck, sealing the bite, before diving into kiss her mouth, her blood smeared across his mouth, hot and wet on his tongue and teeth. She kissed him back, aching and arching into a fast-approaching orgasm, riding him, her hips thrusting against his over and over, feeling the hard pressure collecting deep inside her. She wondered if she could come just like this.

Eric held her hips, directed her thrusts on his cock harder and harder and harder, beating her merciless and senseless. She was disintegrating against him, her body liquefying and evaporating; she felt so tremendously distant from the world. All she knew was skin and heat and sweat and _fuck_ she was going to come, hard.

Eric pecked at her neck, her jawline, swirled his tongue in her ear. Sookie tore at his hair, her tongue dragging hot, wet lines across his neck and into his temple and hairline.

Eric collapsed on his knees, careful to hold Sookie to his chest, careful not to slip from inside her. He laid her on the wooden floor, pressed himself flush against her, driving himself inside her. He gripped her shoulders in his hands, holding her in place so that she took the full impact of each thrust, her breath leaving her in terse gasps. He sucked on her neck, making the skin redden and darken. He was going to come.

"I'm going to come."

"Hold on."

Sookie rolled them over so she straddled him and she rode him. He lay there useless and battled with the sensations threatening to blind him. A thousand years, and all he could do was clench his teeth and hope he outlasted his lover – the shit she could do to him made him feel stupid, but so fucking lucky.

"Okay, okay . . ." Sookie panted, her hands leaving his chest to tear at her own hair as her orgasm crashed through her. He could feel her tightening and jerking around his cock and he unclenched his teeth and just let himself go, his cock spurting his thick load inside her. Each spurt made him convulse violently.

Eric may have blacked out for a second. He opened his eyes and Sookie had laid her head on his chest, his cock becoming soft inside her, he could feel his cooling come dripping.

"That was . . ." she sighed. She raised her head and stared in his eyes, brushing the hair from his face. She looked serene. "I needed that."

"Glad to oblige," he whispered. One hand came to stroke her hair, while the other massaged her scalp. She purred under his hands, her body stretching beautifully feline, he slipped from inside her. It suddenly occurred to him how exceptional the pain of her loss would be, the mood shifted quietly, he stopped and held her. The weight of her against him, her breath, her heartbeat, her smell, it was dangerously finite and that fucking terrified him.

"Eric, you're crushing me," Sookie wiggled underneath his hands and moved to his side.

She had fought to stay alive and one day that fight would leave her and that would be all. Tears threatened to form in his eyes. _No_.

Eric turned to his side to face her. She whined uncomfortably at the shift. "Sookie."

"Mmm?" she opened one eye.

"I will always fight for you," Eric promised her, the words soft and muffled on her tired ears. "I will fight to the day you cannot and then I will keep fighting. I love you."

"Eric?"

"What?"

"If you love me, take me upstairs. This floor's cold and hard as hell."

Eric smiled fondly and slipped his arms underneath her, lifting her and flitting her upstairs into bed.

* * *

" _Eric_! Eric, please! _Eric_!"

Sookie was drowning. Her arms thrashing in the dark, depthless water – the fight being drained from her as each breath became more painful to catch. She couldn't keep her head above the water, she was being dragged downwards and she knew she was going to die.

Behind her, Eric could see the flash of something evil forcing her below the surface. The siren shone darkly and perilously, a marker of death in the water. It smiled at him.

 _I'm going to eat her in mouthfuls. She will scream until the sky tears open. And you couldn't feel less – you're a monster, there's no humanity for you to imitate a human._

" _Eric_!"

"Sookie." Eric flitted towards the water. If these were her last moments, they would be his too.

"Eric, _no_!"

* * *

Author's Note: I'll be honest, no proof reading went on here. I just wanted to get it published, so please be forgiving. And please review if you can 3


	5. Chapter 5

5

" _Eric_!"

Sookie raised her hands and threw Eric from the water, deep into the forest. Pain ignited her skin and she cried as her light touched him. Her hands felt like she had squeezed hot coals in her palms, like she had forced her hands down on a stove. The pain rocked her where she stood and she could feel fat, unwanted tears roll down her swollen cheeks. She stared at her hands and whimpered as the moon shone on the mutilated skin, glistening pink and painful in the light.

"Oh," Sookie breathed. Her powers had never hurt her – but, _her hands_. The skin had been burned away to reveal the fresh, delicate layers underneath. Her fear existed alive and insectile beneath her skin. She could almost see her tremors chase each-other, each one fiercer and more destabilising than the last.

Her head emptied, she collapsed to her knees. Sickness leapt in her throat and she coughed up the contents of her stomach. Viscous, yellow vomit flew from her mouth, she choked on the acidity and cried bitterly.

" _Dear thing_." The siren spoke, it's accent indistinct and soft, kind on the ears. Sookie could feel herself drawn to the sound, the loveliness enthralling.

Sookie forced herself to her feet. Nausea disorientated her. When she held out her hands, the pressure of the air on her sensitive skin made her clench her teeth – the pain like something pinching and scratching at her palms. There was a sickness in her stomach and a tiredness in her bones and a venom in her mouth.

"How dare you touch him," she spat.

" _I don't want him_." The siren's indifference made her snarl.

Hunched with her hands held outwards, she was posed for attack. She wanted to claw the siren, watch the skin separate and peel like tissue paper, feel blood collect under her nails. Vision red; she was bloodthirsty.

Sookie held the siren's stare. Lust simmered in her blood as she fantasised - slashing the siren, tearing its tendons and letting its veins and arteries snap like guitar strings, the wet gelatine texture of organs and the crunch of bone. The gruesome images were intoxicating.

She could smell the vomit on her clothes and held on to the repulsive realness of the stench – she needed to hold on to reality. She envisioned a wall within her mind – dense concrete walls, solid and impenetrable; she told herself that she was invincible, that she was ferocious and untouchable, clamped the lie between her teeth.

" _You think you can destroy me_ ," the siren accused. " _I am older than the water. Destruction shall never touch me or my kind._ " The siren motioned towards the forest. " _He is a thousand years old. My children are a millennia old and have spent all that time dragging stronger beasts into the water. He is nothing. If you do not come to me, I will have him and every creature on this Earth between us. Are you that cold to your world that you would have it destroyed?_ "

"If I see you, or if you hurt anyone, I'll kill you," Sookie promised the siren. "You. Are. _Nothing_." The words had a strong resonance in the air, but there was a clanging hollowness in them that betrayed her uncertainty.

The siren chuckled. " _You smell of an older world, but you have no understanding of that world or its power._ " The siren began to hum – a gentle melodic tune danced in the air.

" _Shut up_!" Sookie screamed and held the sound until her ears and jaw ached with the pressure. She thought of the dense walls around her mind; she told herself she was strong, she told herself that her powers ran deeper than the siren could know. She repeated it, screaming it, until she had to believe it.

And then she ran.

And she ran until she couldn't feel the silken shadow of the siren on her shoulders anymore, or the dulcet buzz of its call. The ground tore at her feet and twisted at her ankles, making her turn and fall, but she needed the distance between herself and the siren.

Her insides felt ripped and rifled through – anger and frustration and desperation and loneliness had scratched and slashed her apart from the inside. She could feel everything trailing behind her – dragging on her, slowing her. Her entire life, a dead weight locked around her feet.

* * *

Eric blinked at the stars – they shone ever so prettily in the sky. He stretched his hands out across the hard, dry earth, it felt velvet, lavish and luxurious under his palms. He felt wholly and perfect content in that moment – entirely at one with the universe as it stood around him. He closed his eyes.

" _Eric_?!"

 _Sookie_. Eric chased the echo of her voice until he stood less than a metre from her. She jumped and screamed and Eric could not tease the real fear scarred in her features. Her cheeks were red and streaked with tears. She shook violently, each breath painfully and desperately drawn. She held her hands at a distance from her body and he couldn't conceal his horror when he noted the layers of skin seared away.

The information trickled little by little into his mind, which felt dense and woollen. He felt attached to the world around him by the finest thread.

"Sookie . . ." he whispered. His brain couldn't process at the speed needed for a sentence, a response, a reaction. But he could feel her emotions like she was tugging hard on a rope around his chest. "Sookie . . ."

He watched as her eyes rolled into her head and she slipped to the ground, soundless and weightless as a sheet lost to the wind.

" _Sookie_."

Things were happening, processing and delivering faster. He felt more present in the world around him, he didn't feel so loose in the space; he could move and understand and respond with greater efficiency.

Eric gathered Sookie into his arms and ignored her stillness, her unresponsiveness. Her breathing was shallow and quick. Her skin was slick and feverish. He could feel the illness in her blood. He couldn't think of what to do, so he did what he would have never done – he flitted to the house of the King of Louisiana, his dear highness Compton.

* * *

"I've called Dr Ludwig," Eric announced as he entered the room.

Bill knelt by Sookie, who had been laid on the couch and covered with a thick blanket as violent shivers started to wrack her small body. She looked so impossibly tiny and delicate. Small moans escaped her lips as she shivered.

Eric couldn't look at her.

"What happened?" Bill asked quietly as he brushed damp hairs from her forehead. She winced at his touch.

"I don't know."

" _You don't know_?" Bill repeated heatedly.

"I didn't see."

"But you know it was the siren?"

"I think . . . Sookie was saving me from the siren," Eric admitted. "The last thing I remember is having a nightmare. Sookie was drowning, I had to save her."

"How noble."

Eric growled.

"Shut up, Eric," Bill commanded. "If it weren't for you, this would never have happened to her."

"The siren could come for you next," Eric warned.

"I would never be so weak to answer a siren call."

Eric exposed his fangs and snarled.

" _Enough_ ," Bill ordered.

"You shouldn't challenge me."

"You shouldn't endanger Sookie."

"I would never."

"Are you blind?" Bill turned to stare at Eric, who had his eyes focused on his feet. "Look at her."

Eric lifted his eyes fearfully. He forced himself to maintain a blank expression. "She'll heal."

"Of course she'll heal," Bill snapped. "But she shouldn't be in this situation. She deserves better."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Do _you_?"

"Care to elaborate?"

"You can play house with Sookie, but there will come a time when you cannot rise to her dreams," Eric told him. "Sunshine and children and perhaps a Labrador named Buster."

"You have small expectations for her dreams."

"You expect her to want to become your Queen? To rule a vampire kingdom? To become a vampire herself? To tolerate bloodshed and death forever?"

"And what kind of life would she have with you, Eric?" Bill asked maliciously. "Would she still come here for me? Would she still be mine and yours? Or, is it your dream, that in the future, you might be enough for her?"

"Sookie will have the life she wants," Eric answered sternly. "With me, or you. Or anyone else."

"Then why are you wasting her time?"

"I will love her as long as she will allow it."

"How romantic."

The doors were pushed open and Dr Ludwig stormed in.

"I hope you appreciate I was out," she informed the room bitterly. She shooed Bill away from Sookie. "Get away from her."

Dr Ludwig peered at Sookie. She checked her temperature and then pulled the blanket back and stiffened at the sight of her hands. "I assume she couldn't take vampire blood."

"We didn't try," Bill answered. "She encountered a siren. I didn't want to risk endangering her health further by giving her blood."

Dr Ludwig sighed. "You would've saved my time if you had. She has second degree burns on her hands, superficial cuts around her knees and feet, bruising around one ankle. And, aside from that, she has pneumonia. There's no reason vampire blood won't cure all of this." She covered Sookie with the blanket and turned around to face them. "I expect to be fully compensated for this bullshit waste of my time."

* * *

Depression, for her, was oddly timed. She blinked awake and knew that it was sometime late in the afternoon. Sunshine had crept in by the window and lit the room softly and unobtrusively; it was nice. She stared at her bedroom and felt the unwillingness to leave and engage with the world deep in her bones. There was an unnatural energy in her blood that made her uneasy, but the definite weight of her sadness sat on her chest and there was nothing she could do.

Sookie turned and pulled the blanket high around her. Whatever had happened last night, she didn't want to know. There was dirt beneath her fingernails and her skin felt dry and gritty. She had needed vampire blood. Last night was bad and she couldn't cope with that. She couldn't cope with today – the concept of unforeseen and unpredictable events unfolding, that her world would tip and turn and tilt, pinging her like a pinball in a machine – no thank you, not today. She closed her eyes tightly and grinded her teeth when tears slid from beneath her eyelids.

Sookie didn't sleep so much as she shifted positions on the bed for hours. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the siren. She would smell rotten flesh in her nostrils and taste it in her mouth. The sound of water would rush in her ears, the feel of water would char her skin. She could feel hands all over her. She wanted to suffocate into a full sleep; she wanted to be drained, the blood to swell and pour from inside her and leave her so faint and feeble, sleep was all that was left.

It just wasn't fair. She wanted to fit like a child. It was so fucking unfair. How had this become her life? A never-ending tight-rope walk from one pass with death to the next, trying to catch all her loved ones in her arms as she went – that was not what she deserved. Not even fucking close.

Sookie turned her face and sobbed into her pillow. Gran had warned her; Gran had done all she could to ensure the best for her. And this was how she fucked it all up. Perhaps, this was what she deserved. Perhaps she would need to crawl through shit and blood until she had earned the right to anything good.

Sometimes happiness felt so real and so close she swore she _was_ happy.

When Eric pressed his hand against her lower back or skimmed his fingers across her arm or hand; when he would look at her and smile, or wink, and she would know immediately, because she would receive what he broadcast so clearly: _I love you_. When Bill would reach for her hand as they walked, so unconsciously and naturally, or when he spoke his mind like he was reading her own, she felt it like a punch in the gut. To be loved was such a special, priceless and dear gift, and she cherished it so dearly.

But to love them back meant to suffer and sacrifice. And when it was done, they would heal her and her body would shine, polished and reborn, and she would hate every inch of skin left untouched by the battle she'd won. She wanted scars because she knew she had earned them. Instead, she had to carry them around inside her. She just had to wake up crying sometimes. But that was fine.

Because she was Sookie Stackhouse and she could fight every battle that was laid before her on a silver platter. Because that was who she was – that was her life.

Fine. Fuck it.

* * *

She had a dream where she was married with children.

In her dream, she had been to university and had become an elementary school teacher. She came home from work at four and always found her children in the yard.

She had an older daughter named Adele. She was beautiful and smart and painfully stubborn. She read books all the time and spoke with a sophistication and confidence that astonished Sookie. Adele sat on the porch, the cat in her lap and a book in her hand.

She also had twins, who were loud and troublesome and disobedient as all hell. One dark-haired and the other snowy blond, they were a handful she was ready to drop. They chased one another in the yard and, no matter the tousles or tumbles, they continued their chase mercilessly and happily.

Sookie would step out her car and the twins would run towards her at full speed, their arms outstretched and their smiles infectious. Adele would lower her book and smile a real, sincere smile. She would catch the twins in her arms and hold them until her arms ached.

"Did y'all miss me?"

Sookie awoke, the question warm and fresh in the cool air around her. She blinked as she sat up in her bed. The sun had started to set and the temperature had started to drop. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared around the room, suddenly so horribly unfriendly.

* * *

Eric had a dream where he was married with children.

He climbed from his space beneath the house and pushed the door open just as the sun set. He stepped down and walked in the direction all the noise came from – the kitchen, where he could hear his sons shout at one another playfully and their mother scold them distractedly.

As he rounded the corner, his sons took notice of him and shouted in unison. They ran towards him excitedly and he collected them both in his arms; they squealed as he lifted them into the air and bounced them, one in each arm.

"Causing chaos?"

"Uh-huh," they answered. The twins were blond, tanned and shared a brainwave for mischief and mayhem.

"Good," he winked at them before he dropped them – _gently_ – to the floor. "Now, shoo."

Eric leaned down to press a kiss to his daughter's forehead. She had her head bent over her homework and she batted him away as he tried to kiss her.

" _Da-ad_ ," she complained. "I'm doing my homework."

"Need help?"

"No," she answered firmly. "It's only advanced chemistry, it's not hard."

He smiled and patted her shoulder. "Say if you need any help."

"Like you'd know."

"They did chemistry in my day."

"I think the modern day approach is a little more advanced than what you were doing in the stone ages."

Eric chuckled as he wrapped his arms around Sookie's waist. Even as he could feel the tenseness in her muscles, she became fluid against him. He moved her hair to the side and kissed her neck sweetly.

"Hey."

Eric opened his eyes with the greeting still warm on his tongue. The sun had set.

"Sookie."

* * *

Author's Note: No sex, I know. I wanted to write something steamy and sordid but it just didn't feel right. Writing this chapter was challenging because there was so much plot. You have no idea how much this chapter has been started and re-started and butchered and reassembled. So please review, please?

I may be getting the feeling that no-one likes Bill, that maybe, just maybe, people don't want Sookie and Bill together? I don't know. Just guessing.

I have essays due this week but hopefully, after this is published, I'll be shifting my ass back into gear and we'll have a story going. But please review - be brutal and cruel, just give me something to work on and I will love you forever.


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